<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A Bad Habit of Mine by surprisepink</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25060999">A Bad Habit of Mine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/surprisepink/pseuds/surprisepink'>surprisepink</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken | Fire Emblem: Blazing Sword</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canonical Character Death, Character Study, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pre-canon through post-canon, the inherent homoeroticism of presenting your lover with a blade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:15:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,561</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25060999</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/surprisepink/pseuds/surprisepink</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“……All right. I see. Nothing’s going to change. I knew that, and yet… I had to try. It’s a bad habit of mine.”</p><p>Legault can't help falling in love, over and over again.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Heath/Legault (Fire Emblem), Isadora &amp; Legault (Fire Emblem), Legault &amp; Nino (Fire Emblem), Legault/Aesha, Legault/Lloyd, Minor or Background Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Bad Habit of Mine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ostensibly this is a Heath/Legault fic but Heath is in rough 30% of it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Legault had been in love once, several lifetimes ago. Before that, he had always been a man who lived a life of transience, who resisted commitment. He allowed others to get to know him, momentarily, only to pull back before he truly became attached. Yet even the strongest-willed men have their moments of weakness—Legault knew that more than anybody - and he, too, had once found it impossible to deny himself such an indulgence.</p><p>In those days the Black Fang had yet to become a prison, and each day had felt easy, or at least easier than they had when he had been alone. He'd been nothing but a common pickpocket, beaten down by a series of misfortunes and questionable decisions that forced him to learn how to survive in the way that he did best. With the Fang, Legault found a new sense of stability, of safety. They had readily taken him on as one of their own, each with a story as tragic—as pathetic—as his, and together they had created something that felt as though it would last forever. Fools they had been, the whole lot of them, and yet for a time Legault was at peace with his new, scrappy little family.</p><p>But, alas, there was no true safety in their tiny, chaotic world, and the Fang went from the tight-knit community to something unrecognizable before Legault’s eyes. It was that backdrop against which Legault fell in love, and, the moment Aesha took her last breath, the backdrop against which he swore to never fall in love again.</p><p>She was nothing now, rotting away in an unmarked grave if she was lucky; he had declined to learn the fate of her corpse, coward that he was, and he lacked the belief in gods or spirits or an afterlife that many possessed. She was nothing, but at one time she had been everything: graceful, ferocious, and strikingly gorgeous. A woman who could stop a man from breathing in less than half of the time it took Legault, and with less mess to clean up afterward. When they were together, it became far too easy to dream of catching up to her, of being by her side - first as a friendly rival, then as something more intimate. Soon enough he was head over heels for her, and it came to light that the feelings were mutual.</p><p>Their relationship had been one of passion, a thrill quite distinct from the less savory ones that he was accustomed to. For either of them, or both, any day could be their last, and that was reason enough not to dally. They'd gone out of their ways to find time for each other, to laugh together, to make love often, and in those precious moments the world shone with a new beauty.</p><p>Even now, Legault could recall the last time they spoke—in truth, it was impossible to forget. Aesha’s spirits had been high even with one of her arms bound, immobilized in bandages courtesy one of The Fang’s few healers. The job had been as scrappy as anything they did in those days. The two of them talked of what they would do in a week, when she was sure she'd be bored of resting; in a month, when her arm would be healed, they hoped; in a year, in five, ten. Their words had been noncommittal, but there had been a faint hope within them, and as the night grew long, they became laced with a certain romanticism: she might take up needlepoint to keep her hands deft; he fancied himself a farmer after he retired.</p><p>“I might have to retire sooner than expected, you know. If things don’t go as expected, we may have to elope.”</p><p>She’d laughed at that. “Don’t do anything like that on my account! I’m a patient woman, I can wait for you.”</p><p>Already, he had received his instructions; by the night's end, she was gone.</p><p>Though she had no way of knowing, Legault offered her a parting gift, one last evening of pleasure before an untimely, undeserved demise. Their lovemaking this time was slow, with each movement careful, deliberate. He'd made a point not to let her exert herself, had pointed out that she ought to lie back and let her arm rest; she deserved to be comfortable tonight of all nights. She'd smiled when she came, a wide, lopsided grin that he'd come to love, and when he collapsed into her she whispered words of love, stroking his hair with hands that were made for so much more than killing.</p><p>"You're so good to me," she said, with no way of knowing how it shattered his heart.</p><p>"Bold of you to call me good, given how well you know me."</p><p>"I love you, too."</p><p>It was all for the best, he reasoned. It was only the natural order of things for the weak to be eliminated lest they cause trouble for the rest of the group. Over and over he reminded himself of that, but no part of it had felt natural. Aesha hadn't been weak - he knew better than anyone that she was stronger in spirit than all of them—and Legault... Legault was not strong. There was no strength in lying by her side, waiting for her to fall asleep, making a lighthearted comment that he'd wait a while to go to bed in case she needed to be protected from the monster in her closet. There was no strength in plunging a dagger into her breast, not even allowing her the dignity of knowing that she was dying, and he himself choosing a method that would not force him to watch the light leave her eyes.</p><p>In truth, it was he who was weak, acting on orders that benefitted nobody, hardening his heart instead of... blast, instead of what? Running away with her? Spending the rest of their lives doing their best to stay one step ahead of their successors? The thought did occur to him, weighing his heart down and nearly halting his hand, yet he forced those thoughts away, reasoning that such an elopement would only end in death for the both of them. No, the Black Fang was a group that had its methods, its rules; attempting to defy them would only mean that someone else would step in to take his place. Better, then, that he at least save his own skin.</p><p>Sleep did not come to him that night, only waking dreams of what might have been if only he had chosen differently. From then on, Legault promised himself, there would be no room in his heart to fall in love. The ability had left him the moment he chose to let her die.</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="center">
  <p>...</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>If things had been different, almost unfathomably so, there was someone who might have been his second love: a man who possessed all the ferocity of a wolf and a love for his pack to match. He had already known Legault well - too well - when it began, and cared for him regardless, with his own sort of gentle ferocity. How could he not? The Black Fang acted as family, work, and watering hole all in one, and they easily became tangled in each other's lives. It was only natural that when it came time to blow off some steam, they sought each other out. With Uhai, that might be sparring, but with Lloyd, something more intimate.</p><p>They had both been drunk when it started, maybe, or maybe only one of them was, or maybe they were stone sober. Drink was the explanation that they would use, if anybody bothered to ask; there was no shame on either of their parts—half of the Fang had some degree of predilection for their own gender, that was no secret—but it was an easy enough explanation as to why they came to spend so much time in each other's bedchambers. It was much easier to make light of things than to consider that perhaps there might be some spark of anything beyond the bond of camaraderie.</p><p>Lloyd had kissed him with a fire on his lips and touched him with a surprising tenderness one night, then another, and soon it was nearly every night that neither of them was preoccupied with a mission or some personal business. At the time, something about it had felt so very right, falling into the embrace of a man with a will of steel, the two of them finding comfort together as the world they once knew seemed to crumble around them.</p><p>"Do you ever think about what's next?" Legault asked one night, if it could even be called night. The sky was starting to lighten, and they’d barely found time for sleep, so enraptured they had been with each other’s bodies.</p><p>Lloyd had been dozing next to him, all of the blankets wrapped around his nude form. The man had never been much for sharing when he awake, and it had come as no surprise that he was the same in slumber. It made no difference, as Legault had slept under far more dire conditions than naked beside a warm body.</p><p>"What's that supposed to mean?" Lloyd muttered, barely bothering to open his eyes.</p><p>"Nothing is forever, my friend. I'm well aware you’d choose to die fighting if it came down to it, but..."</p><p>"I don't plan on dying any time soon. And when I do, I'm not expecting anybody else to follow. Does that answer your question?"</p><p>"Not particularly. The Fang has changed, Lloyd—we both know that."</p><p>"And what of it?"</p><p>"...sometimes it's best to leave a sinking ship before you drown. That's all."</p><p>Lloyd snorted. "That's where we differ, Hurricane. Sneaking around suits you, but I'll never give up on my family. And don't think I'll go easy on anybody who stands in my way, no matter how pretty they moan."</p><p>"What a shame, I'd hate to have to kill you on my way out." He paused, tracing a line around Lloyd's pec with an uncharacteristic laziness. "But I'll give you some time to reconsider."</p><p>"Don't crawl into a man's bed with threats of murder," he said, stifling a yawn. “Fool.”</p><p>Legault had to laugh at that. In truth—a truth they both knew—it would take a lot more than that for him to finish Lloyd off. He’s had quite enough of murdering his lovers for one lifetime. Ironic, really, that he’ll kill on command like some trained animal but would struggle to do so in self-defense if Lloyd comes after him.</p><p>Clearly, Lloyd never reconsidered and only weeks later Legault left his old life behind, laying a decade of kinship to rest in favor of a quartet of lockpicks at his hip and a few favorite daggers, for old times' sake. A dozen times, he entertained the idea of making a second offer, but in the end denied himself even that. Lloyd was prideful, and he was smart - surely the moment the Fang noticed Legault gone, he would tell them all exactly what happened, and any details Legault had been willing to offer him would only shorten his own lifespan.</p><p>That was all there was now: Staying alive, not for any real purpose but because he was too stubborn to die. He'd be a damn cockroach if it meant denying his former allies the satisfaction of knowing that he was their next corpse, killed by his own replacement at that.</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="center">
  <p>...</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>Yet a surprising thing occurred to him after some time with Eliwood's band of merry men: The Black Fang wasn’t trying to track him down. He hadn’t expected their assassination efforts to be out in the open, certainly, but there wasn’t a single one of the Fang’s spies that hadn’t learned at least half of what they knew from him, so he’d certainly notice the signs if one of them was afoot. It might have been that they had bigger fish to fry, but they’d never been a group to ignore a traitor for even a moment. There was a nagging feeling in him that they simply hadn't noticed his absence, which seemed altogether impossible.</p><p>"Uncle Legault?" Nino said one evening, unknowingly about to answer just this question. She'd somehow managed to worm her way into his already cramped tent and was now lying with her head in his lap despite his better judgement. He had half a mind to scare her off, just to prevent her from getting too attached to her “uncle”, but damn it, she was impossible to deny.</p><p>His answer was a non-committal hum as he continued to polish his dagger in the fading candlelight.</p><p>"Uncle Legault, you know? I was really surprised to see you here. My brother said you were on a mission, but I guess he didn't know any better."</p><p>That gave him pause, and he took a moment to ponder her words. Linus wouldn't have any reason to say that, and... "Lloyd?"</p><p>"Yeah, some people were asking him if they'd seen you lately, since you two were best friends." That was an evaluation he’d have to bite his tongue about. "He said you had something important to do so you wouldn't be back for a while, but nobody needed to worry about it."</p><p>"Did he now?" Legault asked, tone even, almost bored—familiar play-acting to feign a lack of interest. It was a shame that Lloyd was now dead, as this new revelation certainly elevated him in Legault's opinion. It appeared that the Fang's reasons for not hunting him down and seeing him dead were simpler than he supposed. "He's always been a good liar."</p><p>"Huh?"</p><p>"As you said, we were... close. I told him I was leaving, more or less."</p><p>Young as she was, his companion was no fool, and easily put two and two together. "He lied to protect you?"</p><p>"Something like that. Or—who knows?—maybe he was hoping to hunt me down himself. Pity."</p><p>"Oh, don't say things like that! My brother, he... he might have been harsh sometimes, but he liked you. He really, really liked you."</p><p>Blast.</p><p>Despite himself, Nino's words made his stomach flip like a schoolboy being told gossip about his first crush. Lloyd was gone now, surely waiting to torment him in whatever afterlife that the holiest of his comrades insisted was waiting for them, and yet what Nino had made him realize meant... something. Not that he had been wrong, surely, but that he'd been foolish—for caring for Lloyd too much or not enough, it wasn't clear.</p><p>"I'm sorry, Uncle Legault, did I make you sad? I didn't mean to... I don't think he'd be mad now."</p><p>"You didn't do anything wrong, Nino. Thank you."</p><p>As it went many nights, she ended up falling asleep in his bedroll and he watched over her, his head overfilled with thoughts as he stared at the tent's ceiling from his place on the cold ground. It was fortunate that he had become accustomed long ago to catching sleep where and when he could manage. It was a skill he’d have to take advantage of the next day because that night he was wide awake, pondering the implications of what she had told him. Now more than ever there was no time for nostalgia, yet tonight he allowed memories of the Fang to flicker in and out of his mind, mulling over what he could recall from each night with Lloyd.</p><p>The thought of him—the White Wolf, a name that struck fear into the hearts of those who were privileged to know it—whispering words of affection was laughable. Yet there had been an affection in the private language that had developed between the two of them, a language of casual touches and stolen glances and quick secret meetings, even in the middle of the day when they were both quite busy and lovemaking wouldn't be on the table for hours.</p><p>With Aesha, they could have had a future if he had been strong enough to defy the Fang; with Lloyd, it had been the opposite. For the first time in his life, Legault began to envy couples with easy, dull lives that led to easy, dull goals. It was much too late now, but had he had the chance to live his life over, he might have liked something like that.</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="center">
  <p>...</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>When a man made a career of picking people apart, of learning their nooks and crannies so that it was easier to take them down if need be, he came to know himself equally well. He knew, then, that he was able to love passionately or not at all, and so it had to be the latter.</p><p>His newfound alliance was a group of misfits and unique souls indeed, many of them lovely, but there was no room in life for the doubt and hesitation that came along with romance, least of all any romance with someone who had a full, happy life laid out before her.</p><p>The lady knight had a passion, a drive that could only have come from a world so very different from his own. She fought with honor, proud to serve her queen with a silver blade and a heart full of nothing but love; the thought of living for anything other than her kingdom had likely never crossed her mind. Blind loyalty was not a virtue, and yet he was inclined to admire her for it. The nobles of Pherae seemed to be good people, to the degree that was possible for nobles, and surely serving a cause without doubt, without faltering, was a happy life. Happier than his, in any case.</p><p>She was a beacon of light, for a time, her noble words and pretty face helping the days go by faster as they fought side by side, her charging through enemy lines and him riding just behind, ready to dismount at any moment for a surprise attack. But Legault kept his promise not to love her, secretly thankful that her affection lay with another man.</p><p>"You're spending an awful lot of time around me for someone who says that we don't have anything in common, Master Legault," Isadora said one night, catching him in mid-bite of his hard tack, the rest of the group scattered with their own meals around the crackling fire. It was a clear night, thankfully—at this time of year there were far too many spent haplessly attempting to shelter from the weather—and the air was only beginning to chill. About as close to homey as he could expect these days.</p><p>He carefully chewed, swallowed, contemplated a proper response. Were he younger, he might see it as an opportunity to seduce her; as it was, his only intention was, fully and truly, companionship. "I think we have a lot to learn from one another," was what he finally settled on. Simple and honest, as she deserved. No need for trickery.</p><p>"Oh? Would you like to spar after all?"</p><p>"Nothing so formal. I admire your noble bearing, that's all... and having a companion that I trust won't turn around to stab me in the back doesn't hurt."</p><p>"If that's what you're concerned about, please allow me to reassure you that Lord Eliwood would not allow such knaves in his army," she said with an unexpected firmness. He almost laughed at her inability to hide her feelings; the poor woman was scandalized at the very thought that someone would distrust her lordling. "Or... have you an issue with him? If you do, know that I won't stand for it."</p><p>Legault, who would have called half of the Fang bastards to their faces - with affection, usually, even when they <em>were</em> getting along - hadn't been wrong when he’d said that he had little in common with her.</p><p>"Believe me, if I thought he wasn't fit to be a leader, I wouldn't be here."</p><p>"Wouldn't you? Not even to overthrow him?" She added the last bit with some trepidation.</p><p>"I'm done with those days, you know. Better to spend my energy finding someone worth allying with in the first place than to try to change people who are already set on the wrong path."</p><p>"You're an interesting fellow, Master Legault."</p><p>"I do my best. But you know, I could say the same for you. I admire the knightly type, you know? Your lives must be so simple, knowing exactly who you stand for and what you'll die for. Assuming you have a family as pleasant as Pherae's to serve, that is."</p><p>"It's not too late for you to do the same thing." Isadora offered a grin, pure and honest, and Legault matched it with one that was more incredulous. Apparently, the dame was serious - as if she ever wasn't. "I mean it, you know. Your background may be, ah, unconventional, but you are cunning to a fault, and smarter than you like to let on—don't laugh!"</p><p>Her objection came too slowly, after he’d already begun to do just that, and he couldn't help but chuckle all the more at her slight blush, brought on not by his sweet words but by her own.</p><p>"Master Legault, you may doubt your own abilities, or perhaps you are only hesitant to boast. Yet you are skilled, and any noble would be at an advantage should they gain your favor and service."</p><p>"If I didn't know any better, I would think you were flirting with me, Dame Knight."</p><p>"I'll choose to pretend you didn't say that."</p><p>"Ah, that's for the best. Your lover has joined us now, hasn't he?"</p><p>"How did you..."</p><p>"Oh, you know. I hear things, here and there." He shrugged, preferring her to think that he just happened to stumble upon such information rather than going out of his way to snoop on her affairs. It was nothing personal, after all; his nose was in just about everyone’s affairs. Besides, the two of them weren’t exactly subtle, and he likely wasn’t the only one in the army who had noticed those tiny gestures of love: sweet glances, soft words of encouragement, hand squeezes that they naively assumed were in private.</p><p>"A bit nosy, aren't you? But yes, I'm sure you're referring to Harken, and you are correct. The pair of us have made plans to be wed when the time comes that such frivolities are appropriate."</p><p>"A stiff way to talk about your lover, mm? But I should expect that from you two."</p><p>"We are bound by duty, Harken and I. Romance comes second to that, though sometimes I am loath to say it."</p><p>"Do you now? And here I thought that for you sorts fighting under the same flag <em>was</em> romance."</p><p>"You aren't entirely wrong, and yet... I have the heart of a woman, too, and he that of a man. Even knights have those desires to wed, to begin a family. Surely that's true of thieves as well."</p><p>Legault snorted. "Speak for yourself. My hands are full enough with saving my own skin. I wouldn't have time for a family. Besides, there's no thrill in it."</p><p>"And that girl? The one who calls you uncle? She is your family, certainly."</p><p>"That's different. I take care of her because she needs me. And Nino is a strong young woman despite her age. She'll be on her own soon enough."</p><p>"Is the thought of settling down really so unthinkable to you?"</p><p>"Nobody in this world wants to be subjected to me forever."</p><p>"Are you talking about an employer now or a lover?"</p><p>"Hm. Wouldn't you like to know?"</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="center">
  <p>...</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>And so he looked on as a surprising number of his allies formed pairs, each of them full of boundless optimism that they'd both live to see the next day and the next, on and on, and wouldn't get tired of one another in the meantime.</p><p>"There's something intrinsically sexy about banding together to defeat a great evil, I suppose," he said, looking on at the grand feast that their group had somehow managed to whip up shockingly soon after Nergal had fallen. Eliwood and Ninian were getting what seemed like their hundredth congratulations for saving the world and surviving and whatnot, and Legault idly wondered if they were going to tire of it and elope. That would have some interesting aftermath.</p><p>"Please never say that to me again," came Heath's voice from beside him, tinged with a touch of irritation. Heath had been the one to sit there in the first place, so Legault paid his irritation little mind, instead choosing to take it as a compliment that Heath found him interesting enough to be in the general vicinity of.</p><p>He’d stayed for the last half hour or so, making no effort to move, but he'd proven a rather quiet party companion, preferring instead to pick at his supper and at his drink. (He ought to have some more of both, really—the man had managed quite an impressive performance in the battle against Nergal’s morphs, and surely needed the extra calories. As for more drink, well, that would have been a sight to see. Heath seemed like he’d be an emotional drunk.)</p><p>"You're free to leave," Legault responded. “I know you have other friends.”</p><p>"I don't like mingling at parties,” said Heath, who was not denying that they were friends.</p><p>"You're free to leave the party, too."</p><p>"I don't feel like it."</p><p>"Suit yourself," Legault said with a shrug. All told, he'd prefer Heath's presence over someone else’s. It meant Legault wasn’t stuck gossiping with the air, and Heath was certainly easier on the eyes tha most. "Has anybody ever told you you're an odd fellow, Heath?"</p><p>"I don't want to hear that coming from the person who's spying on all the couples here."</p><p>"It's not spying when they're canoodling right out in the open. Look at that, for goodness' sake."</p><p>Heath followed Legault's gesture and his eyes landed on the lady of Caelin and her lavender-haired companion, seated on plush cushions in a corner by themselves. The two seemed lost in their own world, speaking with their faces inches apart and full plates untouched.</p><p>"They're not canoodling, they're best friends,” Heath said.</p><p>"They've already spoken openly about plans to go back to Caelin together and they're holding hands while very much in the open. That's canoodling."</p><p>"Not everyone is like you, Legault."</p><p>"Like me... how, exactly?"</p><p>He paused, making a vague gesture. "You know."</p><p>Legault laughed at the obvious hesitation in Heath's voice. He doubted it came from a place of hatred, given that he'd done a fine job of putting up with his nonsense so far. Heath could say whatever he wanted about only being here in order to avoid the rest of the party, but his actions spoke otherwise. More likely the thought that his perfectly normal allies might be queer had never crossed his mind, a humorous naiveté for sure. Didn't soldiers like to get up to that kind of thing in barracks when there were no ladies around?</p><p>He had grown fond of the wyvern knight, and suspected the feeling was mutual, even if Heath would never say so in as many words. The man had quickly shut down any flirtatious comments that Legault made, yet no part of him seemed truly frustrated or annoyed - merely uninterested, or perhaps repressed. And they'd discovered something much more valuable than sexual interest: A kinship where they understood each other, listened without judgment, and didn't try to touch the parts of their souls that the other wasn't ready to reveal. Heath seemed to understand that. It was only, Legault presumed, his hesitations about considering himself an ally to a former assassin that made him hesitate to admit it.</p><p>Not that Legault would say no to a little fling should Heath initiate it. <em>Heavens</em> no. He was cautious, not <em>insane</em>.</p><p>Even so, it was for the best that Heath's only interest in him was platonic. In truth, Heath was the type of person he might have truly fallen for: Passionate about what he believed in to the point he'd die before going against his morals, honest to a fault, and drop-dead gorgeous. A bit like... well.</p><p>"You remind me of someone I used to know."</p><p>Heath eyed him suspiciously. "What's that supposed to mean?"</p><p>"My, taking everything so seriously! Can't you loosen up even at a party? Just a woman I was once acquainted with—yes, yes, she was Black Fang," he added as Heath opened his mouth to speak. "Didn't I tell you it wasn't all bad? If she hadn't passed on, she'd have joined Eliwood's army just as quickly as I. Then you'd be stuck dealing with two of us."</p><p>"I remind you of her? Is that why you follow me around?"</p><p>"I have a type, mm? But really, you follow me around just as much."</p><p>"Don't get any weird ideas," Heath said, his voice lacking in malice as always. A shame, really, that they'd soon never see each other again. He was fun to tease.</p><p>"Nothing weird about it. What's a little stalking between friends?"</p><p>"You're dead-set on this friendship thing, aren't you?"</p><p>"Interesting of you to fixate on that bit and not on the 'a little stalking' bit, but I'll bite. Yes, I was quite serious about that, and I think you should consider it."</p><p>"Consider <em>what</em>, exactly?"</p><p>"Maintaining a friendship after we part. I don't mean to say we should cling to each other's sides, but there's an allyship between us. And don't deny it, because you do know what I mean. If you do as you wish, as a knight defending whatever women and children you can find to defend, and I do as I wish, doing..." he gestured vaguely, "as I will, and we <em>happened</em> to do those things in the same <em>general</em> corner of the world... who knows? It might be mutually beneficial."</p><p>Heath leaned over, resting his head in one hand. "Surely, you know there are a hundred holes in that plan?"</p><p>"One's life plans never truly work out, so one might as well be flexible. That's what I've learned in my many years of life."</p><p>"You’re what, thirty?"</p><p>"I'm <em>twenty-seven</em>.”</p><p>He snorted. "You sound like an old man sometimes. I guess murder really ages a man, hm?"</p><p>"Are you <em>making fun of me</em>?" Legault said in mock offense. "And here I thought you were <em>sober</em>, Heath!"</p><p>"I'm allowed to <em>joke</em> sometimes, aren't I? Or is that just you?"</p><p>"Believe me, I have no complaints about it. But, careful, it sounds like you’re a few steps away from admitting that you’re getting fond of me."</p><p>"Don't get too excited."</p><p>"Getting <em>used</em> to me, then."</p><p>"I'll get back to you about that."</p><p>Legault leaned back, satisfied. That was progress.</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="center">
  <p>...</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>The time came soon enough for them to part, most in pairs, groups of soldiers under the same liege, or collections of commoners returning to the same nations. Naturally, Legault was alone.</p><p>He ended up on the receiving end of a bow and a heartfelt farewell from the dame knight and her lover, Isadora fighting back tears and Harken thanking him profusely for keeping an eye on her on the battlefield when he wasn't nearby.</p><p>"It was nothing," Legault replied, nonchalant. "She does all of the hard work, you know? I just slit a few throats from behind when I'm able."</p><p>Harken winced at his bluntness. "We spoke with Lord Eliwood about you, about your loyalty to his cause. He agreed with us that it may be a bit of a challenge, but he'd be able to pull a few strings to at the very least install you somewhere safe now that the Fang is defeated."</p><p>"The only thing I'm loyal to is saving my own skin," he replied, though he had to admit a certain fondness for the army's leaders. If every noble could follow in their footsteps, there'd be little need for anybody in his previous line of work. "Besides, your lordling would do well not to get himself involved in the affairs of assassins, former or otherwise. No need to sully his glistening image so soon, mm?"</p><p>"Still, we would be remiss not to aid you. I can't imagine you have anywhere to go."</p><p>"I've always managed."</p><p>Both of them opened their mouths to speak, but Legault was promptly whisked away by a small green-haired blur, her arms gripping him like a drowning girl clinging to a raft. Instinctively he pushed her away, but only until he realized who it was.</p><p>"Nino, this is the third time today."</p><p>"I can't help it! You're going to leave and I can't stop you and I <em>know</em> I can't stop you but what if I don't see you again <em>ever</em> and I'm going to look away for one minute and you'll be <em>gone</em>."</p><p>And then she was weeping, streams of tears dripping down her face and onto her robes, which were already stained with dirt and blood. She didn't deserve to be like this. But then again, she didn't deserve much of anything that she'd been through, and here she was, dirty and scarred and still shining.</p><p>Many moons ago he'd promised himself that he wouldn't hold her so close, that he'd protect her from afar until it stopped being necessary and then disappear quietly into the shadows. She reminded him so much of himself when he was small, only kinder, more optimistic. A strong spirit in a tiny body. The fact that she put up with him was an unexpected positive testimony to his character.</p><p>"You'll still have Jaffar, and he's much more reliable than me."</p><p>"I know I'll have Jaffar, and I love him a whole lot, but you're like my family and he's... it's different."</p><p>“Yes, yes, I know.”</p><p>Her blooming crush on Jaffar had been obvious to him - and to the whole army, for that matter, since she'd never been skilled at hiding her feelings when Sonia wasn’t around. So it had come as no surprise when the two announced their intention to leave together, to find somewhere safe and comfortable to live out their days in peace. He'd teased her about it then, and later reminded Jaffar that he knew how to make people regret their misdeeds. Jaffar had silently nodded, and that felt like enough.</p><p>Jaffar had walked a bloody path, but he was young, barely older than Nino despite the impression that most people got from him. Assassination had a way of aging a person. Should the two of them settle down, he still had time to change the path that his life would take, time that Legault lacked. Nino would be happy then, happier than if she stayed in contact with her good old uncle.</p><p>Blast, he sounded like he was a hundred years old when he said it like that. Felt like he was a hundred years old, too.</p><p>"Uncle Legault, do you think it's all right? To get engaged when you're fourteen?"</p><p>Well.</p><p>"Did he propose <em>already</em>?"</p><p>"He said he's not in a hurry, but he was going to do it eventually no matter what, so... yeah? I told him I didn't know if I should say yes, but I wanted to marry him one day."</p><p>"Tell him to do things in the right order. You've barely had time to court what with... everything."</p><p>Her arms were still wrapped around him, but he had made no move to push her off after the initial, instinctive reaction. This might be the last time they were together and it also might be the last time he would be hugged for a good while; best to let it happen and enjoy the moment.</p><p>"I don't think Jaffar knows much about romance," she said.</p><p>"Yes, well, you'll just have to teach him, won't you? He hasn't had a chance to learn."</p><p>"Uncle Legault... I don't think <em>I</em> know much about romance."</p><p>He resisted the urge to sigh. So it was coming to this, was it? "Make sure he's good to you and don't ask me for any advice other than that, because I don't have it."</p><p>"Don't tell me you've <em>never</em> dated anybody because I won't believe you," Nino countered, pouting. "You're too charming for that."</p><p>"Not anybody you need to know about."</p><p>"Uncle Legault!"</p><p>She was nothing if not persistent. Nino was a girl who had practiced spells until her hands were burned and blistered. Interrogating her "uncle" about his love life was, in comparison, child's play. She didn't need to know the explicit details—not about her brother, especially—but she deserved a straightforward answer.</p><p>"If I’d had any romances worth emulating, I'd be married to that person now, you see? So you shouldn't be learning from me."</p><p>“Huh,” was Nino’s immediate answer, followed by a moment of thought. "When you say it like that, it's kind of sad... Do you <em>want</em> someone special?"</p><p>"I... hm. Think of it this way. Some people, like you, find their special someone when they're young, and you're lucky that way. Some people have to wait a long time. And sometimes in the meantime, while they're waiting, they meet a lot of people who aren't quite the right one, for one reason or another, and they live a lot of life, and in the end, it's better if they don't burden anybody with all of the life they've lived. Does that make sense?"</p><p>"If you've killed too many people to get married, so has Jaffar."</p><p>"Well..."</p><p>"Uncle Legault, I don't think you should court anybody if you don't want to, but I also <em>know</em> that nobody has done too many bad things to change and learn how to be a better person. And if you're a good person, there might be another good person around who would fall in love with you—someone <em>else</em> who learned how to be a better person, even."</p><p>"It's not quite about being a good or bad person, Nino. It's more..." He paused, considering how to explain such a thing without making her feel as though her own budding relationship was being criticized. "Whether or not two people are right for each other.”</p><p>"You're always nice to people now. I think you need to be nicer to yourself."</p><p>She always had been wise beyond her years, hadn't she?</p><p>"I'll try," said Legault, who had no intention of trying. "But weren't we talking about you?"</p><p>"It’s fine, think I get it now."</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="center">
  <p>...</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>Nino had a way of leaving a strong impression on a person, he soon realized, for five years had passed and he still thought of her nearly every day: how she might be doing, whether Jaffar was making her as happy as she deserved to be. She had told him, in an idle conversation at some point or another—goodness, they had managed to have a lot of those in the short time they had been in Eliwood's army together—that she wanted to have a family one day, twins if she could. He'd laughed and pointed out that there was no way to <em>try</em> for twins, no spell that could guarantee something like that, and, in any case, are you sure you want to be the caretaker for <em>two newborns</em>?</p><p>He was barely able to take care of himself some days. The thought of keeping two babies alive seemed impossible.</p><p>Still, he wondered if Nino and Jaffar had gotten their twins or whether they were still working on it. Less often, he wondered if the two of them were even alive. He'd seen death dozens of times and did not fear it for himself, could easily imagine himself dying a hundred different ways—one couldn’t avoid death without first knowing it. Yet the thought of Nino, her throat slit by assassins or cut down by a bandit or, hell, succumbing to a particularly bad case of the flu? The thought of that made his heart ache. He chose instead to believe that she was alive, and Jaffar with her, and, he supposed, a dozen or so toddlers at this point. They seemed the type to take in stray children if it came down to it.</p><p>As for Legault? He was still alive, still too stubborn to die. He had business to take care of for now. He'd get to it eventually, dying in some dark cold ditch, alone. As it went.</p><p>He had become skilled at being alone by now. Certainly there had been... not friends, but allies, former Fang members who were now refugees even in their old haunts. Formerly, no nation's ruler had set out to punish Black Fang members who repented and disavowed Nergal's actions. That was one advantage of several of said rulers having taken so many of them under their wing. But the beliefs of nobles meant little to the people, and besides, most of them were from Bern and how Bern's ruling class felt about the whole affair remained a mystery to them all.</p><p>So Legault went where the wind took him, seeking out shelter and food second and people who needed him first. An emptiness in the eyes, a quick sword arm, a determination to carry on despite having no jobs, no food, no purpose: Those were the signs. Some turned out to be former Black Fang who recognized him, assuming he was there to finish them off and forcing him to persuade them otherwise. Others were not former Fang at all but shared that same pain, destitute and outcast for one reason or another. It made little difference, as they were cut from the same cloth.</p><p>There was little he could do but offer them reassurance and perhaps what meager amount of gold he managed to scrape up doing odd jobs and picking pockets. Sometimes he was able to smooth talk a nearby employer or landlord, convince someone that might have otherwise rejected that person to give them a chance. Sometimes all he could do was let another thief loose on the streets, teaching former killers that swiping a loaf of bread was a surer and safer way to a meal than any of their other limited options.</p><p>Occasionally, someone would still have the spirit of a fighter and be working as a mercenary or the like. Those he directed toward the closest of the lordlings he knew, mentioning that they were odd ones, might take in a stranger as a knight if they asked politely and mentioned his name. That would mean little to the trio, he knew, but after a thousand reassurances from Eliwood that he would do what he could to assist any member of his little legion, perhaps it would push him over the edge should he already be hiring.</p><p>Most of the time there seemed to be little point to it at all, but this was something that only Legault could do. And doing it, he supposed, was better than doing nothing. Still, he was alone; these were allies, comrades, but nothing more, and certainly not lovers.</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="center">
  <p>...</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>It would have been too poetic to say that he fell in love at first sight, too much like a love story to say that he knew that their lives would soon enough fall into step with one another. True, Heath had agreed vaguely that they might stay together as allies, or at least he hadn't <em>rejected</em> the idea, but then he had left without a trace. Legault had wondered why he hadn't stuck around to be recruited into another nation's army—surely he could manage riding a horse and he'd certainly get along with the stuffy group of Pherae knights—but, he supposed, the man was filled to bursting with love for Bern and might be desperately trying to figure out a way to return.</p><p>Heath was not, it had turned out, anywhere in Bern.</p><p>It was in Ilia that Legault found him, half a coincidence and half intentional. That is, Legault was <em>in</em> Ilia as a matter of coincidence, but it was his habit to listen in on gossip at every bar and inn he could find, and soon enough he heard a mention of a fierce but mysterious mercenary on a wyvern.</p><p>"He’s a bit handsome, to be honest, with those sharp grey eyes," the young woman said, fully unaware that someone was eavesdropping on her and her friend, "but <em>so</em> guarded. I feel like if I get too close he may strike out like a stray dog."</p><p>They soon found their drinks replenished, the bartender gesturing over to a lavender-haired man halfway down the bar as he set them down. When they were halfway through them, far enough in for tongues to be loosened by the liquor, Legault joined them.</p><p>"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I couldn't help overhearing you talking about a mercenary on a wyvern."</p><p>The young woman blinked, clearly expecting him to have asked her name, or how she was doing, or who she was going home with tonight, or any number of other normal bar conversation topics. "Oh, him? Yes... why?"</p><p>"Odd that someone would be riding something other than a pegasus around here, isn't it? Odd that a man would be a mercenary at all in Ilia."</p><p>"Sure, he turns a lot of heads. He doesn't talk much, though, so I'm not sure why he's not in Bern like the rest of them. His first day he came in wearing old Bern-style armor as well. But he's strong, and that's all our captain cares about, I guess.” She shrugged. “She’ll accept even a man if he knows how to make himself useful."</p><p>"I ask all of this because I happen to know a man much like you describe. Would you, perchance, be able to tell me more...?"</p><p>And so it went, until, within the hour, Legault knew exactly where to find Heath. It turned out to be an area where a rather inconspicuous mercenary company had taken root, somewhere a bit out of the way in a cozy wooded area. Given how precious of an asset Hyperion was, Heath could have no doubt taken his pick of groups, and chosen something larger, flashier, and richer. But this was the type of place where it was easy to get lost, if someone happened to think he might need to. That night Legault only took a quick trip there, satisfied with a brief glance of green and white hair.</p><p>He visited him formally the next day and Heath nearly ran him though with a spear. Its tip was at Legualt's chest when he stopped and realized he wasn't a phantasm or, worse, sent by the king's guard to execute him. Perhaps a dozen expressions cross Heath’s face in a few short moments, all of them equally handsome.</p><p>Heath lowered his spear, his face having settled on “incredulous” for the time being.</p><p>"Why did you stalk me all the way here?" Heath asked.</p><p>"Coincidence," Legault replied. "And I had nothing better to do."</p><p>"It can't be <em>both</em>."</p><p>Legault smiled, changed the topic. Got away with it, too. Despite his paranoia, Heath had always been surprisingly agreeable in that way, willing to at entertain just about any topic for at least a little while.</p><p>That one visit soon enough became monthly, weekly, then almost every day as Legault opted to, coincidentally, spend much of his time in the nearest town. It was comfortable, practical, he told himself. He was getting older and constantly being on the run was no good for his body; best to sit still when he could. That he was within walking distance of the man who was his oldest living friend was happenstance.</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="center">
  <p>...</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>To even a man less observant than Legault it would have been clear that Heath had come to trust him in a way they both might have once thought unimaginable. The first time Legault had visited, he'd nearly been stabbed, which he'd managed to laugh off. There was no singular event that changed their dynamic, no particular reason for either of them to let down their shields, and yet, slowly, gracefully, they had somehow become friends.</p><p>Heath was… one of the best men he’d ever met. Legault didn’t bother saying so to him, but he thought about it nearly every day now. His being, his essence was a thing of beauty. In him, Legault saw a man who was steadfast and true, whose kindness ran deep, whose empathy almost crippled him. Befriending him was far more than Legault deserved: Their hands were both stained with blood but Heath had never felt joy in it, had never truly enjoyed killing the men that he knew deserved it. He deserved to live in a peaceful time, to spend his days caring for elderly wyverns or something of that sort.</p><p>It was a perfectly normal day when Legault realized that he was in love, and it was the most natural thing in the world. And he was terrified, and resolved to take it to his grave.</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="center">
  <p>...</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>They had set up a fire together one night, as they sometimes did. There were ways to speak together inside, of course — it was easy enough for Heath to have secured a private room among the mercenaries considering he was the only man. But there was an intimacy that could only be found when the stars were above them and there was little chance of anyone stumbling across them. Heath, he assumed, didn’t want anyone to get the wrong impression about their relationship. Legault remained a suspicious character, someone whose mere presence might make the others suspicious of Heath, even if nobody in Ilia knew just <em>why</em> they ought to be suspicious.</p><p>They sat together, talking of this and that, until the conversation came to a natural lull. The night was chilly, but the fire made it pleasantly warm, and he was in no hurry to leave. Legault noted that at some point Heath's hand had found its way onto his thigh, where it sat now, most welcome. He meant to make a joke about it—Heath was more comfortable here than he had ever been on the run, but he’d probably never lose his uptight streak—but Heath spoke before he was able.</p><p>"Legault, I... I want to be like this forever,” he said, denying Legault eye contact but squeezing his thigh ever so slightly, an odd combination of distance and intimacy indeed.</p><p>Legault opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped before he could form a coherent thought. Heath did have a way of sounding romantic without realizing it, didn’t he?</p><p>"What I mean is, I think - no, well, I know - I've fallen in love with you."</p><p>Well, that was unexpected.</p><p>"You're joking," Legault said, quirking an eyebrow. But there was an honesty behind Heath’s eyes that never faltered, and it shone all the more brightly now. Legault knew Heath was speaking with complete earnestness, even if his own words said otherwise.</p><p>"I'm serious! Why would I joke about a thing like that?"</p><p>"You... I..."</p><p>The words did not come; they never did, when they needed to. It seemed like Legault's heart would explode as Heath stared at him, clearly expecting more than that. Deserving more.</p><p>"Legault, you told me you loved me years ago. Did something change?"</p><p>He had taken that seriously. Of course he had! Heath didn't have the capacity to take that sort of comment in jest. Likely, he'd been thinking about it for the better part of the last five years, turning it over in his mind, pondering if Legault might earn his love. Legault had passed the test, evidently, but he'd never expected to. He’d thought about making love to Heath a thousand times but not once imagined how they might... be together. His ability to carry out the mundane, everyday elements of a relationship seemed dead, or, at least, buried deeply.</p><p>It would be best if he told him that it had been in jest. That he was handsome, but Legault's only aim had been to see him blush, to see how he would react to such a brazen display of affection. Back then, that was all it had been; now, Legault couldn't imagine a life without Heath.</p><p>He shouldn't have fallen in love; he shouldn’t have considered acting on it. To love was a strength, but to be dedicated to a lover was a vulnerability. And besides, the words of love—true, honest love, not casual flirtations meant to set pretty boys and girls off kilter enough to open up—had left him after so many years of refusing to use them.</p><p>“Heath,” he said. In an instant, Heath had broken through his defenses, leaving honesty as his only option. “So much has changed.”</p><p>Heath looked to the fire, as bright and warm as the one they had sat before that night so many years ago, during the celebration after the war. He had been irritated then. Now, on his face he showed only sorrow. It was that forlorn way that men often expressed when they thought they had seized victory, failed, and suddenly had no second option to turn to.</p><p>“I see,” was all he said.</p><p>“But don’t let it discourage you. Sometimes change is good, right?”</p><p>“As usual, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”</p><p>“I was joking back then, when I said I loved you. Wanted to lighten the mood, you know—and I knew you’d be cute when you blushed.” Legault shrugged, even now trying his damndest to stop himself from burying Heath in a mountain of feelings. “Turns out it’s hard to make jokes when you’re around.”</p><p>Heath must have taken that as close enough to a confession—that, or he was just fed up with Legault speaking in riddles. He slipped a finger under Heath’s chin, his callused, trembling hand pulling him closer. Slowly, tentatively he pressed his lips to Legault’s. They were rough, chapped by the winds and the kiss was chaste; still, it was the best kiss he’d had in years.</p><p>He’d never been one for eye contact—too nervous, Legault had assumed—but now Heath seemed more afraid of it than ever as he pulled away. Somehow that made the moment even sweeter. He looked like he would sink into the ground immediately if Legault rejected him now, and there was something genuine about that, something earnest.</p><p>It no longer mattered how many reasons there might be that they’d be better off apart; now that Heath said he loved him, none of his doubts seemed to matter.</p><p>Legault pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips even as he thought this and heard a sharp intake of breath, saw a pink tint to Heath's cheeks. He ached to see him undone, to undo him. A hand slipped under his chin, pulling him closer, softly but firmly, as if Heath was clinging desperately to their contact, to their connection.</p><p>Kissing Heath felt like the most natural thing in the world, like falling into a fresh bed, resting his weary head after a long, long adventure. He felt like safety, a safety that Legault could barely recall from times past.</p><p>"This isn't a good idea," he said, pulling away, but he couldn't bring himself to go far, couldn't bear to let his hands leave their place on Heath's chest.</p><p>By the light of the fire he could see clear as day on Heath's face that his heart was about to shatter into a thousand pieces.</p><p>"I... we... listen. I'm not a good person."</p><p>"Neither am I," Heath replied, confused. Searching Legault's face for a more satisfactory answer. "If you're not interested, you can just—"</p><p>"No, it's—"</p><p>"I'll—"</p><p>"No more talking," he said, pulling Heath in again, this time kissing him longer, deeper. Heath made a faint noise of confusion but readily complied.</p><p>They carried on like that for the better part of an hour, their lips and hands gently exploring each other, not quite chaste but very much aware of the fact that, technically, they were outdoors and vulnerable. A much younger Legault would have laughed at that caution, would have pushed Heath down and seen him ravished right then and there, but now he couldn't imagine anything better than simply enjoying Heath's lips and his strong embrace.</p><p>"I don't understand you," Heath said when they finally separated, and Legault smiled at the sight of his hair mussed and collar askew.</p><p>"You will one day, I think. If you're willing to stick with me for that long." He wanted to tell him now, help Heath understand the mess of thoughts that always occupied his head, but the timing was wrong. One day it would be the right time. "Will you?" he added, almost shyly.</p><p>Heath smiled an ordinary smile, but to Legault it seemed as warm as a thousand suns. "I just told you I loved you, didn't I?"</p><p>"Mm, just checking."</p><p>"You're as weird as you were when I met you, you know?"</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>Heath must have been surprised when he woke up alone the next morning, exhausted from the night before and—hopefully—wildly disappointed that Legault no longer warmed his bed. It wasn’t the first time Legault had fucked somebody and left them before they could notice, but with Heath, it pained him to think of how he might react. He must be searching for him, combing the area and all the usual places he would have expected to find Legault, maybe even asking patrons at that same bar.</p><p>It was an amusing thought, “all the usual places”. The two of them were becoming oddly domestic in their ways.</p><p>Two days later, Legault returned, carrying a small package wrapped in paper and twine. He stood silently in front of Heath's lodgings, the other mercenaries bustling about but quickly leaving him be when he explained who he was here to visit. It really was an advantage to be intimately acquainted with the only person in Ilia to have a wyvern as a friend.</p><p>Summoned by a lilac-haired lady, Heath came around to meet Legault, a training spear still in his hand. His face was streaked with concern. (It might be cruel to say so, but Legault found the look rather becoming on him.)</p><p>"Don't disappear from someone's bed like that," he hissed, the worry giving his voice a certain harsh edge. Likely, some of the other mercenaries already had their suspicions about their relationship, especially after today, but Heath probably preferred to at least <em>try</em> to hold onto some shred of dignity. "I thought..."</p><p>Legault wasn’t sure what Heath thought—that Legault had rejected him? That he was interested, but in a shallow sort of way, only wanting Heath's body but not his love? That it was all too much to think about and he was running away?—but it mattered little. He could make his feelings clear in his own way. Heath knew how to figure these things out by now.</p><p>"Here," Legault said, handing him the package. "A token of my affection."</p><p>It wasn't much of an answer, but Heath indulged him, pulling the twine away.</p><p>"Is this some kind of joke?"</p><p>"What, you don't like it?"</p><p>"Most people wouldn't give this as a token of <em>affection</em>... a threat, maybe."</p><p>Legault shrugged. "What can I say? I'm not 'most people.'"</p><p>Inside the package was a dagger, well-polished, although Heath should have been able to see from its nicks and imperfections, not new. It may have even looked familiar, with a blue handle inlaid with elaborate silver designs.</p><p>"This is yours," Heath said.</p><p>"Just take it, Heath, I have plenty. Don't you want to think of your gentleman caller when he's not around?"</p><p>Heath could have—<em>should</em> have, probably—asked him to elaborate on the "not around" bit, but he presumably preferred not to know if Legault was planning to disappear again.</p><p>"My <em>gentleman caller</em>?"</p><p>"I'm calling on you right now, aren't I?"</p><p>"Not much of a gentleman, though."</p><p>"Mm, there's a smile," said Legault, and Heath realized that he must have been scowling before that. "Do that more often. It brings out those lovely eyes."</p><p>"So does this mean we, ah..."</p><p>The worlds caught in Heath's throat. It had taken him <em>years</em> to fall for Legault, months to come to terms with the feeling, and months more to work up the courage to say so. He wasn't sure what came after that, had barely any experience with this sort of thing, and none with a man, <em>definitely</em> none with both of them being wanted criminals of sorts, neither having any real prospects for longtime stability.</p><p>One day, long ago, he'd dreamed of a cozy home, a normal wife, normal children, a normal retirement. He'd given that dream up, sacrificed the prospect of future comfort for the ability to sleep at night knowing that he had refused to kill anybody who didn't fully deserve it. He didn't regret that for one moment, but what he <em>did</em> miss was the future feeling certain, inevitable. Now, nothing was certain.</p><p>That could, he hoped, be a chance for freedom as much as for tragedy.</p><p>"Who knows?" Legault said in what he intended to be a flippant yet affectionate tone.</p><p>"<em>Legault</em>."</p><p>"Okay, all right. Listen. I like you, Heath, I do. But I wasn't expecting... well, any of that. I didn't think you would be interested, especially after all this time. You surprised me. I don't know if we can manage anything resembling a normal relationship." He paused, crossing his arms. "I don't know if <em>I</em> can manage anything resembling a normal relationship. I'll probably break your heart, eventually, either by dying or running off or Elimine only knows what <em>else</em>, and you don't deserve that."</p><p>"We're the same that way, and we both know it. Any other objections?"</p><p>"Still blunt as ever, I see. You know you're too good for a scoundrel like me?"</p><p>A pause and then a quiet "huh" was all that Heath could manage then, and he was promptly very interested in looking at his own hands and the polished dagger in them. Knowing Heath, he had gone over a dozen possibilities for this scenario, and none of them were quite like this. Legault was inclined to be smug, pleased with himself about managing to baffle the man even after so many years - and yet now, for once, he only wished for Heath to understand him.</p><p>"I don't think I'll ever understand you," Heath finally replied, "but... I fully intend to try."</p><p>Once, Legault had loved someone and neglected to keep his promises to her. Once, he had loved someone without ever truly speaking words of love with him. Once, he had loved someone and banished that love before it bloomed.</p><p>Now, with Heath—strong, noble Heath, who could vanquish a foe as quickly as any decorated knight and had refused to use that skill at the cost of any true glory; sweet, kindly Heath, who was evidently just as incapable as Legault himself was of loving someone with anything less than a burning intensity <em>offering</em> himself to Legault, with all of his baggage and shortcomings…</p><p>Now it appeared to be the time when Legualt could love someone the way that they deserved.</p><p>Legault smiled. "Coming from you, I believe it."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="https://twitter.com/seraphknights">Please talk to me about Legault headcanons my crops are dying.</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>